Bogeyman
by Melodious329
Summary: Caveat lector, slash. First season, Richie is kidnapped and not as bait for Mac. How will they all deal with the consequences?
1. Chapter 1

Richie was just hanging out in his old neighborhood. He had come for a party but ended up outside trying to clear his head. Things were so different now; it was like he didn't fit in here anymore. He didn't feel like he really fit in with the rich crowd like Mac and Tess either though. So he wandered around a little. He'd think later he should have been more careful, but who knows whether it would have done any good.

He stopped suddenly as he heard a crash off in an alley to his left. He didn't notice the two men who came toward him from the street, who suddenly grabbed him and hauled him, bodily into a car before he could think much less scream. Not that it might have done any good.

It was an odd car ride to say the least. He was practically sitting on some big guy's lap, with huge meaty arms encircling him. The other man tied a gag around his mouth and bound his hands in front of him. He could tell they were heading to the warehouse district. When they stopped the man holding him handed him off to the other man. They were treating him like a child, always one hand on him or wrapping him in a bear hug. He was maneuvered inside.

Once inside the men exchanged his ropes for iron shackles which made Richie really nervous. As he looked around he noticed there were lots of well-dressed people milling around. There were also lots of kids about his age or younger in shackles, without clothes. "What the fuck?!" thought Richie as he began to panic. This didn't seem to be about Mac or immortals and frankly that made him more frightened.

His attention turned back to his captors when they took out a knife. He struggled uselessly against the two behemoths. He saw the knife coming toward him, looked on helplessly as it moved slowly toward his chest, and watched it dip into the v on his shirt. The knife was slicing through the material of his clothes. His relief was momentary. "Whoa, why are they cutting off my pants?!"

He was still fighting when a well dressed man came up to the three of them. "So you got him?" the man asked. "Good I have a buyer who's very interested," the man continued as he reached out to stroke Richie's face which just made Richie more furious. "Ooh, he'll be even more pleased to know the kid's got spunk." The man walked away as Richie glared at his back.

Things were getting quieter as he stood there, held against one of his captors with an arm across his now naked chest. Richie watched several more subdued teens being led into another room from which he could hear talking and sometimes clapping. He was cold and scared half out of his mind. "If it's not about immortals will Mac be able to find me?" he thought. Then he was being pulled toward the door, it was very bright on the other side and it took him a couple of moments for his eyes to adjust and look around. What he saw made him begin to resist more stubbornly. Vainly he attempted to dig in his heels, but the men just hauled him out anyway.

There was an audience, men and women sitting in chairs staring at him as he was drug forward, past a podium. His arms were forced over his head and secured. He felt completely defenseless as dozens of eyes stared at his nakedness. He knew what was going on; this was a human market, every street kid's worst nightmare. It was like the bogey-man though, this shit didn't really happen… and why him, why now? He was so lost in his panic that he didn't even notice that the bidding was over. He was led away to a man. The man who had bought him was tall and built, not huge like the men surrounding him but too strong to get away from Richie thought. The man had brown hair and brown eyes, really average. Richie was handed off to the thugs surrounding this new man. One of the thugs had a syringe with a sedative that he stuck in Richie's shoulder.

Richie awoke laying cold cement. It looked like another warehouse. He shifted uncomfortably. The men noticed he was awake. As he was hauled to his feet, Richie didn't see the man who had bought him, only his thugs. They dragged him to a bathroom and then unchained him. He was stunned and just stood there rubbing his wrists before he attempted to take off his gag. The men let him. "You can go to the bathroom and take a shower. Come out when you're done." It was the first time he had been directly spoken to since this whole thing started. They closed the door.

Richie looked around the room. There was no mirror or glass of any kind to be used as a weapon, no windows either. Richie felt resigned. Nothing had happened to him yet, so some of the fear had worn off. He took as long as possible with the shower; stepping out long after all the hot water was gone. Finally he was forced to open the door. Two men were on the other side. They didn't say anything about the length of his shower. That worried Richie. He was hoping that he could stall long enough for Mac to find him, but his captors didn't appear worried about time at all. The men replaced his shackles and led him back out to the warehouse. They pushed him to the floor and gave him a sandwich. They put a water bottle on the floor next to him.

Richie slowly began to eat the sandwich looking around. He couldn't think of any smart comments just then. He was scared. These men weren't using him as bait, weren't threatening anyone he cared about. There was nothing left to feel but fear. So he sat and waited. He drank the water and asked to go to the bathroom. About an hour after that one of the men got a phone call. He got up and nodded to another man. They both advanced on Richie.

When the man who had bought him came in, the gag had been replaced and Richie's arms were shackled to two poles so his arms were stretched out to his sides. His feet were chained to a bar which held them open. The fight which had seemed gone earlier reappeared at the sight of his captor. The man came up to him and chuckled. "Go ahead and fight. I never liked easy prey."

Richie shivered involuntarily as the man stepped closer to him. The man's hand was warm and dry as it caressed Richie's cheek and ran through his hair. Then it latched onto the curls and pulled Richie's head back. Richie could feel the man's tongue on his exposed throat. He tried to jerk away but there was no where to go and the man held fast. Then the man's hands moved to his chest, carding his fingers through the hair there, pinching his nipples. "This can't be happening," Richie thought. "Shit like this doesn't really happen. I'm too old to be molested."

The man's hands then moved around Richie's back, pressing the two of them together and Richie was very conscious of his nakedness against the older man's clothes. It made him feel even more vulnerable. He looked around the room to see two body guards pretending not to be watching the proceedings. Richie's face began to feel hot as he turned back toward the man touching him. His captor then dropped to his knees in front of Richie, his hands still holding Richie's naked sides, his face pressed against his belly. Richie felt like he was hyperventilating, his breath coming in short gasps that couldn't seem to fill his lungs with air. The man was nuzzling his stomach as his hands wandered over Richie's skin. The hands smoothed down his back, over the curve of his ass down the outside of his thighs and then began moving up, up his inner thighs. Richie tried to move his legs together, forgetting about the bar holding them apart. His chains rattled with his movements. The man chuckled again as he stood up. The slap came from out of nowhere, Richie's face red both from the impact and from shame. He began to struggle in earnest then and trying to yell at the man despite the gag. The man moved behind him, trailing his fingertips on Richie's torso as he went. Then he pressed himself against the redhead's back and Richie went still. He could feel the man's erection pressed against the small of his back and it made him break out in a cold sweat. The man was nuzzling Richie's ear, his hands caressing Richie's chest, but Richie was looking around desperately. "Mac will be here any second, right? He's not gonna let this happen to me, he'll come busting in looking like a bad action flick and get this creep off me…"

Richie's thoughts were interrupted by the feel of leather around his neck. He watched one of the body guards put down his gun and walk over to them. One hand was unshackled and Richie struggled wildly, but the metal was simply attached to the collar that he now wore. Then the other hand, so he was standing with his fists bunched under his chin before they dragged him down on his knees. It was awkward with his feet so far apart. His wrists were then secured to a ring on the floor so he was kneeling with his head down and his ass up. Lastly the gag was removed. Before he had time to really consider this though, he heard the crack of leather. He tried to look up at the noise but he could barely turn his head. He felt the leather rub against his back a second later though. "Such beautiful pale skin," his captor commented seemingly to himself. Then the leather belt was brought down hard on Richie's back.

Richie's cry rang out in the almost empty warehouse. In the silence that followed all Richie could hear was the sound of his own harsh breathing as he began struggling against his bonds again. He was surprised again by the second blow, and he cried out in pain again. Richie began to bite his bottom lip in his attempt to keep quiet as the blows continued. After three more there was a hand petting his hair. His body stiffened as the hand moved over the welts on his back. Then it was gone, replaced a second later by a kiss on his lower back. Richie arched his neck, hoping vainly to see what was going on, what would happen next. He was better off not knowing.

He felt the pressure at his entrance and knew it was the other man's cock. "No, no, no, no," Richie repeated to himself, knowing he was powerless to stop what was coming. He screamed once as the man's cock breached his body. The man's fingers dug into Richie's hips as the cock drove in deeper and deeper and then stopped. A hand left his hips to roam over the boy's back as if soothing. Then the man withdrew and thrust in again. "Unnnh," Richie groaned as he thrust and whimpered as he withdrew. He felt like he was being ripped apart, the sting of the friction bringing tears to his eyes. But he didn't cry, he felt numb, his mind hadn't quite caught up with what was happening. Then the man collapsed on him, the weight of the other man pushing the air out of Richie's lungs even as he felt the salty sting of the man's pleasure. Then the weight was gone.

The man left Richie kneeling on the floor. Richie was too engrossed in his own ordeal to care. He was blinking back tears and trying to take deep breaths that shuddered. His entire body was trembling and he could feel the wetness dripping down his thighs. He felt like he might be sick. He wanted to go home, to be safe in his bed. He wanted Mac and Tessa to comfort him. "Oh God, Mac," Richie thought. "Mac will think I'm disgusting. He won't understand, I had no choice, cuz this would never happen to him. They can't know about this. He'll think I'm a whore that I'd sell myself as well as steal." He didn't notice the man coming up behind him with a syringe again.

When Richie awoke the next day it was the same drill. He had been unchained from the floor but his wrists were still stuck to his collar. The bar had been removed. The guards took off the shackles and the collar and took him to the bathroom again. Richie took another long shower, not because he was stalling this time though. It was obvious that the man came when he felt like it. No this time it was long as he scrubbed himself. He could feel the welts on his back and saw the bruises on his hips. It strengthened his resolve that Mac would never know about this.

He was fed a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, which he nibbled at only because he didn't know when he would be fed again. He drank the water greedily though and was given more. After lots of waiting and several trips to the bathroom, the guards came to him again. This time two of them held him down while another injected something directly into the vein in his arm. Then they let him go completely, stepping back as his captor walked toward them. Richie wanted to run but he felt like he could barely move. He felt so tired and his limbs weren't obeying as he struggled to stand…

The man came up to him, gripping his elbow to help him up. But Richie couldn't help swaying and could barely stay standing. The man's arm went around his waist supporting him as his other hand gripped Richie's jaw. Richie closed his eyes and felt lips softly touch his. He jerked his head to the side, but the man brought it back forward. A warm soft tongue outlined his full lips and then pressed inward. The man's grip tightened on Richie's face as the tongue explored his mouth.

Richie felt drunk, like he was at a party. Who was he making out with again? He slowly opened his eyes and saw the man. He struggled, weakly trying to shove off the man's chest. That was when he noticed the man was naked too this time. Richie's head rolled back in his attempt to separate from the kiss, but the man just took the opportunity to suck hard on his exposed throat. The man walked back a few steps, pulling Richie with him and then sat down in a chair. Richie was pulled down to sit straddling the man's lap. His head rolled forward and the man took it as an invitation to resume kissing him. First the upper lip and then the lower one were sucked and bitten before the tongue pressed in deep again. Then the man released Richie's mouth, and ground his cock into Richie's stomach. Richie gasped at the contact on his own cock and at the pain of the man's grip on his already bruised hips. The man stilled for a moment and Richie drifted again.

He felt fingers rubbing the back of his neck. He lifted his head; Mac did that when he fell asleep in the car or on the couch. "Mac," Richie whispered opening his eyes again. Panic flared through him and he pushed weakly again at the man's chest. The man gripped his wrists hard, pulling Richie forward. One hand then released to slip around Richie, pulling his body toward the man. His captor began to lick his nipple; Richie couldn't control his arousal at the touch in his drug induced state. Then the man bit down hard and the redhead whimpered and jerked. The man was suckling with ferocity first one nipple then the other. His hand moved down the cleft between Richie's buttocks and stroked his entrance. "No," Richie breathed. He watched as the man slicked oil on his hardened penis before deftly lifting Richie off his lap and positioning him. His own weight drove the man's cock in deep. Richie's cry sounded like a child's, his fists beat ineffectually on the man's chest. "It hurts," Richie said as the man pushed his hips down hard, rotating inside him. Richie didn't feel the tears until his captor's thumb was wiping them away. The older man kissed Richie's face softly, his forehead, cheeks, chin, nose. Then the man's arms were around him and he was gently settled on the hard floor.

Richie's legs were lifted and placed on the man's shoulders. Then the man drove into him hard. Richie began to sob as the man fucked him viciously, driving him into the floor, his thighs practically pressed into his own chest. "Stop!" Richie sobbed, and then the man withdrew. His captor stood over him as he turned on his left side and curled in on himself, still sobbing. The guards let him cry for a few minutes after the man walked away, before injecting him again.

He woke up in the same position, still unchained. Richie stood hesitantly, feeling like he might keel over at any minute. He walked slowly to the bathroom. Once in the shower he just sat on the floor and let the water wash over him. He waited for the man to come back numbly. His wrist shackles had been put back on but nothing else. He sat on the floor and hugged his legs, waiting.

Finally the guards laid him on his back and attached his wrists to a pole; his ankles were shackled also with a short chain connecting them. Richie thought he saw pity in the eyes of one of the guards as he leaned over him. He wanted to hit the guy. The welts on Richie's back smarted as he lay there, resigned as his captor, naked, positioned himself between Richie's legs.

The man's hand ghosted over Richie's torso. "You're so beautiful," he whispered.

Fuck you," Richie replied. A hard slap followed the comment. Richie glared back at the man kneeling over him. The man pulled Richie's butt onto his lap, stretching Richie's arms out. Then he pressed into Richie, completely dry. Richie struggled as much as he could. He was already so sore that it felt like agony, like fire. His head hit the floor hard in his struggles. At first he thought he was disoriented from hitting his head. But then he saw him, Mac wrestling with the guards at the door. He struggled harder in his joy at seeing him, but his captor continued to thrust into him with fervor.

Richie felt something…wrong inside. The pain was becoming unbearable; everything felt squishy as the man continued to fuck him. Richie looked up at his captor with wide blue eyes, and then he looked back at MacLeod. Mac had made it into the warehouse and was fighting with the guys inside. "No, Mac can see what he's doing, Mac wasn't supposed to know…" His panicked thoughts were cut off as the man above him covered his mouth and nose with a large hand. Richie started getting dizzy, he could still feel the man inside him and hear his impassioned grunts, but it seemed far away. His vision was darkening at the edges, then the man let go.

Richie heard a roar then; he turned to see Mac staring at him, trying to get to him through three guards. He turned away ashamed. He felt hands on his right arm, but as he turned to look he felt it break with an audible snap. Richie bucked wildly with the pain, which seemed to be what his captor had in mind. Richie's head turned from side to side like he was trying to clear his head, like this was all a bad dream. Then the thrusting stopped. He looked up to see his captor's horrified face and the katana protruding through his chest. Then the man was gone. He felt cold and lightheaded; his arms were unchained but still shackled and were lying on his stomach now. He was on someone's lap; he started at that, trying to get away before he saw it was Mac.

"Mac I'm sorry," his voice was a whisper. "I didn't mean to, it wasn't my fault…" His eyes teared up before he passed out.

Duncan was in shock. Richie hadn't come home from a party in his old neighborhood four days ago. He had discovered that the boy had been sold, _sold_. Then when he got here to rescue him, what he had seen…it was horrific. And now the boy was hemorrhaging, blood pouring out from between his legs. If Richie died and came back as an immortal from this…Duncan shuddered.

Richie was just a boy and what he had said before he passed out, what did that mean? Duncan took off his shirt, pressing it between the boy's legs as if that would stop the flow of blood, then he carefully scooped the boy up and took him outside to wait for the ambulance that he had called from an office inside the warehouse. No the boy would live and get over this, Duncan would see to that.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: This is for SouthernChickie and foxyladyhubbards who thought that there was more to this story. Hope y'all like it.

The police were waiting for Duncan as he exited the bathroom. The paramedics had let him ride in the ambulance, afraid to let him drive himself, or perhaps afraid to let him out of their sight. Richie had been whisked away as soon as they had arrived at the hospital, leaving Duncan alone and blood-soaked, shaken and afraid. A nurse had taken pity on him, giving him a large pair of hospital scrubs and directing him to the bathroom.

Sergeant Bennett was there, a grim expression on his face. It was obvious that no matter how often Richie had been the thorn in the detective's side, Bennett realized that the boy hadn't deserved this, no one did.

It was somehow worse to see the policeman's horror and pity for Richie, made it more real, emphasizing Duncan's failure. He was supposed to protect the boy, to guide Richie into a better life, and to teach him when he became immortal. But instead…this had happened…he had failed, how could they recover…God, how was he going to tell Tessa?!

The police officers led him to a different waiting room. They must've seen the tears in Duncan's eyes because they were quiet on the way, giving the immortal time to collect himself.

Duncan had been unwilling to involve the police before, certain that Richie had been taken by an immortal. Now the decision was out of his hands and he didn't know what to tell them. How could he explain what he had done?

"Mr. MacLeod…" Sergeant Bennett's voice was softer than normal, almost apologetic in tone. Duncan knew that he was not presenting his normal defiant picture either. He had an overwhelming urge to drop his head into his hands but he didn't. Duncan waited stoically, his eyes downcast for the detective to continue.

"How long had Mr. Ryan been missing?"

"Four days." Such a short time for things to have changed so irrevocably.

"Why didn't you report him missing?"

Duncan scowled. "Would you have done anything?"

Bennett frowned but didn't respond. "So you went looking for him yourself?"

Duncan only nodded, it was quite obvious exactly what he had done. He only waited, with baited breath. If they arrested him for the murder of those men…he would have to break out, he had to be there for Richie no matter what happened and he didn't want to have to take the boy on the run.

The sergeant raised himself up to his full height, suddenly somber. "We found videotapes in the warehouse…" He paused then as Duncan gasped and lifted his eyes to the detective's. The immortal did not even want to imagine what those tapes showed, but he hated the idea of anyone seeing what had happened to Richie.

The policeman continued speaking, "You're not on the tapes but we know that the men had guns…" There was another pause as Bennett stared into Duncan's eyes as if he were looking for something, guilt or innocence perhaps. "We're going to consider your actions self-defense."

A long sigh escaped the immortal. One less thing to worry about. Duncan stood, wanting to get back to check on the boy. "Thank you."

"Well, I doubt that there's a jury in the world that would convict you." The detective's voice was haunted and Duncan hurried from the room, not wanting to hear it and know what Sergeant Bennett had seen.

Duncan left the room feeling miserable. He spotted Richie's doctor across the room and rushed over to the man.

"Dr. Hillman, how is he?! How is Richie?"

The man looked up, surprised at the intrusion but his expression softened as he recognized Duncan.

"He's still in critical condition, but the surgery went well. We're moving him to the ICU now."

"Is he going to be ok?" Duncan persisted.

"We fixed the perforation in Richie's colon and replaced the blood lost, but we still need to worry about infections, particularly as long as he stays on the respirator."

"He's not breathing?! Why is he still on a respirator, how long…?"

"Mr. MacLeod," the doctor gripped Duncan's arm to get the Highlander's attention. "There is nothing to do now but wait."

Duncan nodded and the doctor dropped his hand before continuing. The man seemed almost embarrassed by his next words. "There will be a psychiatrist available to him as soon as Richie wakes up…and to you."

Again Duncan just nodded. He didn't want to think about how the teen would deal with the horror of his ordeal, he was only concentrating on making sure Richie survived.

As the doctor walked away, Duncan knew that he had put off calling Tessa as long as he could. He headed towards the payphones before heading upstairs to the ICU.

The immortal held his breath as the phone rang. Tessa answered on the second ring. Duncan felt awful about leaving her to worry when he head the desperation in her voice.

"Hello?"

"Tessa…it's me."

"Duncan! Where are you?! Did you find him, how is he?"

"Yes, I found him. Tessa…," Duncan didn't know how to tell her. His throat was tight and tears sprung to his eyes. "Tessa, Richie was raped. We're at the hospital now."

He burst into tears then. Duncan had not cried until that moment. Somehow telling Tessa how he had failed Richie, failed them both, was more than he could handle dry-eyed.

"What?! I'm coming there now." There was a pregnant pause. Tessa was silent for a moment as Duncan choked on the sobs that he couldn't control, then he heard her voice again. Softly she said, "Duncan, it's not your fault. I'll be right there."


	3. Chapter 3

Duncan was sitting in the ICU beside Richie's bed when Tessa arrived. Her face clearly showed her horror at the sight of the boy. The immortal understood the feeling, he had been sitting there for an hour and he was still stunned that things had turned out so badly.

Richie was so still, laying flat on his back, his skin as white as the sheet the boy was lying on. And the tubes, they were everywhere, snaking down the boy's arms to coil on the bed, appearing out from under the blanket as if by magic, spewing out of the boy's mouth.

A blue cast covered the boy's left arm below the elbow and there were bruises on the boy's face and neck…Duncan was glad for the crisp white blanket that covered the worst damage, that he could hold Richie's lax hand and stare at the white expanse and listen to the whoosh and beeps of the machines and pretend that the boy was just sick, that Richie would wake up soon and smile and crack a joke and be ok.

Duncan dropped his eyes from Tessa's face. He didn't get up, couldn't interrupt his bedside vigil and he certainly didn't have the right to comfort Tessa, not after what had happened to Richie.

Tessa approached and Duncan clenched Richie's hand tighter in involuntary response. Then she was beside him, smoothing the hair back from his face, but he still couldn't face her. Duncan shook his head and squeezed Richie's hand and desperately tried to keep the tears from falling.

"Duncan. Duncan, look at me."

The immortal hesitated only a moment before turning his face up.

"It's not your fault," she said as she crouched down beside him. "If it wasn't for you, he'd still be there. You did everything you could."

Duncan wanted to argue, wanted to say that he should have prevented all of this, but he knew it was useless. His guilt wouldn't do a thing to help Richie now.

"Tell me what happened," his lover implored. Duncan looked down at her in surprise. He had forgotten that he had left the house almost twelve hours ago now, that her only knowledge came from his short phone call.

The night that Richie had not come home, Duncan had gone over to the teen's friend's house while Tessa had called the hospitals and Richie's other friends.

The next day, Duncan had stayed in the apartment, thinking that an immortal would call offering an exchange or a challenge. He went out to look for the immortal the next day, but found nothing.

On the third day, Duncan tried his mortal contacts, looking for any sign of Richie. Both he and Tessa were at the end of their ropes, sick with worry.

And last night, the call had come, one of his contacts had heard something and Duncan had rushed out, leaving Tessa to sit by the phone. The immortal cleared his throat, wishing that that would make the story easier to tell.

"Tommy had heard that Richie had caught the eye of a buyer, a man who wanted Richie as some kind of toy. A sex toy, Tessa."

He had hoped that he could leave it at that. Tessa didn't need to know what he knew and he certainly didn't want to say it out loud. But he couldn't hold it all inside, it was just too much, too unfair.

"Three days, Richie was with that man, Tessa. He was almost raped to death! What are we going to do when he wakes up?!"

There he said it, spoke his greatest fear that there wasn't anyway to fix this. Silent tears ran down Tessa's face and Duncan did move then, pulling her up into his arms.

They clung to each other until the moment was broken by the sound of the door opening. Duncan turned his head to see the intruder without loosening his hold on Tessa.

It was another doctor, a petite blonde woman with intelligent hazel eyes and a kindly, understanding expression. She motioned for them to step outside Richie's room.

Duncan looked back at Richie's still form, not wanting to leave the boy alone even though he knew that the boy would not be waking up anytime soon. Reticently, Duncan followed his lover out into the hallway.

"Mr. MacLeod?" the doctor asked.

Duncan shook off his melancholy to focus on the woman in front of him.

"Yes, that's me and this is my partner, Tessa Noel."

"Well my name is Dr. Williams and I'm a psychologist here." She took their looks of surprise and sadness in stride. "I wanted to talk to you before Richie wakes up." She stopped at the door to what looked like a small lounge. "Let's go in here a minute."

Things were silent as they settled themselves in the plastic chairs surrounding a small, round table.

"Mr. MacLeod, you were Richie's last foster parent?" It sounded more like a statement than a question but the blonde doctor waited for Duncan to nod before continuing. "And you're now listed as his next of kin and he has signed to release his health information to both of you."

Duncan nodded again, glad and not for the first time that he always made it a point to stay on top of paperwork.

"And I understand that you were the one to find Richie."

Duncan felt his jaw clench. He did not want to talk about that. "Will Richie…What will happen when he wakes up?"

The doctor's own expression was slightly sad as she nodded, apparently acquiescing to Duncan's change of topic.

"I don't know." The woman held up a tiny hand to forestall the explosion Duncan knew she could see in his suddenly darkened expression.

"He could react in any number of different ways, Mr. MacLeod. Everyone is different. He could attempt to ignore it, brush it off and refuse to talk about what's happened. He could be angry and violent, or withdrawn and depressed. Mostly likely Richie will exhibit all of these emotions at some point."

Tessa spoke up then, "What should we do for him?"

"I can't tell you how to act. It's going to be hard and it's going to take time. Richie will need you to be there for him even when he says he doesn't."

The days after that passed slowly. Duncan spent hour after hour sitting by Richie's bed, only going to the apartment to sleep and shower when Tessa forced him to. But one of them was with the boy at all times, Duncan just didn't want Richie to wake up and be alone again.

On the third day, Richie ran a fever. Duncan couldn't remember a time when he had felt so afraid despite the doctor's assurances that it was quite common for a perforation of the colon to lead to an infection. It was just that Duncan had never felt so solely responsible for anyone in his entire four hundred year life. Richie was not the son of a woman he loved, he was not just a soon to be immortal student; Duncan had brought the boy into their lives and their relationship would last beyond a mortal lifetime. He hoped.

So Duncan didn't leave Richie's bedside for 24 hours, until the fever broke. Richie just looked so helpless and think of the boy as being that vulnerable was like a vise around his heart.

Sadly the fever had actually made the boy look healthier. The ruddiness it lent Richie's complexion was a change from the deathly pale that Richie's skin returned to after it passed.

On the seventh day, Richie woke up.

_Author's Note: So how do you think Richie will react? This part is gonna be tough so it probably will take me a little while but I'd love to hear your suggestions. As this was a violent attack, Richie is probably going to have a violent reaction._


End file.
